


When Irish Eyes Are Smiling

by Lothiriel84



Series: The Birds and the Bees [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Introspection, Romance, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1740929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Irish Eyes Are Smiling, sure 'tis like a morn in spring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Irish Eyes Are Smiling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tammany](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tammany/gifts).



> Spoilers up to 3x03.

When the commotion about Magnussen and Moriarty dies down he finds himself thinking of smiling eyes and soft lips, and has no clue what to make of it.

Janine has been just a means to an end, their dalliance a mere ruse to get access to Magnussen’s headquarters; he wasn’t meant to enjoy it, let alone regret its abrupt conclusion. He never indulges in ‘what ifs’, and for a good reason; his mind demands facts, not sterile wishful thinking or implausible flights of fancy.

Still he stares at the engagement ring she’s returned to him, and he doesn’t know.

Sherlock Holmes baffled by a girl. Who would have guessed that?

 

* * *

 

He meets Molly for coffee sometimes. She’s no longer the stammering girl from the morgue, but a friend he trusts and treats as his equal; much like John, as far as any human being can measure up to him.

“You’re seeing someone,” he states quietly, and she nods.

“I am. He’s nice. We’re good for each other, I think.”

“Lestrade is a good man,” he agrees, absently tracing the rim of his cup with the tip of his finger.

Molly looks up, honest brown eyes regarding him with a sort of thoughtful sympathy.

“What about you?” she asks after a moment, and he immediately scoffs.

“Married to my work, remember?”

His friend smiles knowingly, then shakes her head. “Not really,” she says, and for once he thinks she’s probably right.

 

* * *

 

Janine is gracious enough to listen to his apology, her face a mask of polite attention. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at her hands she keeps folded in her lap – graceful hands with clever fingers and polished nails – and he takes it as his clue for leaving.

“Wait,” she utters at last, and he can’t ignore the spark of hope that is stirring deep inside him. Their eyes meet, and he fights the instinct to hide his true self that is ingrained in him by now.

Janine steps closer, places her palm flat against his chest. “No more lying, Sherl,” she warns him in deadly earnest, and he nods his assent – both a promise and a plea, because he’s going to need her help to navigate around the novelty of his feelings.

“And you’ll have to teach me properly to dance this time,” she adds with an impish smirk.

That’s when he gives in to a reckless impulse and meets her lips for what in many ways counts as their first kiss.


End file.
